Christmas Eve Cookies
by Princess of Ithilien
Summary: The Fellowship make cookies. Silly little story. Merry Christmas! R


A/N: It's Christmas Eve. I'm at home, not feeling well. I'm bored. This is the result. And plus, I just always seem to feel the need to do a little holiday piece.

Disclaimer: If I owned The Lord of the Rings, I'd be dead. Obviously, I'm alive. Enough said. I don't own A Christmas Story, Frosty or Rudolph.

**Christmas Eve Cookies**

The Fellowship, that noble, brave, loveable group that set out from Rivendell, were currently in a spacious kitchen. Each were wearing, over their traveling clothes, an apron. The aprons were decorated in the Christmas spirit-some had snowmen, others had Santas, some had the Nativity, and some were just plain words like 'Merry Christmas' or 'Happy Holidays'.

Gimli struggled to tie his around his back, since Dwarves have very short arms and very stocky cores. "Wait'll I get you tied, then you'll be sorry..." He was muttering random and senseless threats to the apron, as if the inanimate object could actually hear or understand a word he was saying. This apron, in fact, _could _hear and understand every word the Dwarf was saying, and was getting quite ticked off, purposely making it nearly impossible for Gimli to tie it.

The Hobbits were standing about in an excited manner, for they, as Hobbits, knew what was coming. Baking! Oh, how they loved to bake. And eat. Mostly eat, but the baking or cooking had to come first. And then they could eat!

Legolas stood looking at his newly manicured nails, mourning the loss of their shiney perfection. He couldn't stand the thought of thrusting them in dough or something vile of that sort.

Boromir and Aragorn were chatting about their swords as they tied their aprons on in the manliest way possible. They then stood there, looking macho, in white aprons trimmed with lace.

Gandalf was trying to figure out a way he could get the apron on without taking off his hat, for he had had a haircut earlier and wasn't at all pleased with the results. Therefore, he wanted to keep his hat ON.

"Cookie time! Cookie time! COOKIE TIME!" Pippin sang merrily to himself, skipping about and tapping people in happiness.

"As if you aren't already hyper enough, Pip." Merry commented.

"It's Christmas!" Pippin shouted in triumph.

Frodo stood by, looking angsty.

"It is now time for me to say something deep and meaningful and depressing." He said thoughtfully.

"I feel as though this were to be my last Christmas Eve, and am excessively glad to spend it with you, my dear and close friends." He began, stating this in a way that said he wasn't at all excessively glad to be there and would rather be sitting on his couch stuffing his face watching Christmas specials like Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer and Frosty the Snowman and 24 hours of A Christmas Story and that he did in fact loathe and despise almost all the members of the Fellowship because they were less angsty than him.

"Whither I go from here, I know not. But for the time being, I am glad to be here."

"What?" Pippin asked, confused by the fancy Legolas-type speech.

"Translation: Don't know what's happening tomorrow but for tonight let's party." Merry whispered.

"Oh."

"Let's cook! Or bake! Which is it?" Boromir asked.

"Bake. Duh. Cookies? You BAKE cookies. You don't cook cookies." Gandalf answered.

"Sheesh. Show a little holiday spirit, why doncha?" Boromir grumbled.

In reply, Gandalf said something and suddenly the whole kitchen was decorated Christmassy-like.

"What kind of cookies are we going to make?" Aragorn asked, getting the flour and sugar out of the cupboard.

"Christmas Eve Cookies. Hobbit speciality." Pippin answered, pulling out bowls and measuring cups.

"What's in them?"

"Anything and everything! Recipe changes every year. You don't plan it, you just throw stuff into a bowl and say a prayer." Merry said, getting the milk and eggs from the refrigerator.

"Great. In other words, a mess that doesn't taste good. So, why don't we skip this and go see a movie?" Legolas asked, eager to avoid any messiness.

"Because. It's tradition."

A few moments later each of the Fellowship had a bowl and instructions to make their own recipe of Christmas Eve Cookies.

The Hobbits dived into it eagerly, pelting each other with flour while mixing things in their bowls. The rest of the Fellowship started slowly, glancing at other people while wondering what on earth to put in their cookies.

Boromir threw in flour, eggs, sugar, peanut butter, and chocolate sauce, because those were his favorite things.

Gandalf decided to do a fruitcake cookie. So he pulled preserved fruits and things from the cupboards and tossed them in with flour, sugar, and eggs.

Legolas found a pair of gloves and pulled them on with glee. No nastiness on his hands! Then he decided to do a Silky Elven cookie. It was like a vanilla thingy thing.

Gimli didn't really make cookies, he made pumpkin cake batter, and since he didn't want to thicken it up to the point of it being able to be rolled into little balls for cookies, he decided to do a cake instead, because Gimli is just that way and the Author doesn't want to bother to explain anything.

Aragorn had a secret love of raisins, and had eaten oatmeal raisin cookies before, so he decided to make those.

The Hobbits all took ideas from the last year and made little twists on them. Pippin did a cinnamon apple cookie, Merry did a chocolate chip cookie with coffee/chocolate flavored chips, Sam made a spicy sugar cookie, and Frodo made what he called 'Angsty Bars' and we won't go into those ingredients.

When the cookies came out of the oven, everyone looked at each other's with interest. A few of the trays had steaming, black globs on them, but some actually looked edible. So they dug in, and a few minutes later, everyone was saying something like this:

"Oh my gosh! This is the best thing I have EVER eaten! Who made this? I want more! Hey, I was just about to eat that! Give it here! Pass that tray, will ya? Stop hogging! Hey, Gimli, that was MINE!"

And so on and so forth.

And when all the cookies were gone, they fell on the floor in a heap and went to sleep.

**The End**

A/N: Insanity. Just a boring little supposed-to-be-amusing-but-it's-not-really kind of story.

MERRY CHRISTMAS! REMEMBER THE **REASON **FOR THE SEASON!


End file.
